


39. Sam and Ryan reconnect in the aftermath

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [39]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 22:54:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1281781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	39. Sam and Ryan reconnect in the aftermath

_**Ryan Kwanten & Sam Worthington reconnect in the aftermath**_  
[takes place the day after [last call with the girls](http://www.journalfen.net/users/sam_worthington/5563.html)]

By the next night, Ryan is pretty much back to normal -- not hungover anymore, at least. But he's drowning in guilt over the way he left things with Jenna. Tom is out for the evening and so Ryan huddles over his keyboard, headphones on, trying to write. One thing he's learned over the years is to take emotional and psychic pain and bury it in his work. He's trying it now, attempting to take every miserable distracted moment and infuse it into song.

It's been a long day on set, made even longer by going in after drinking so hard, and Sam is so fucking thankful to be home by the time he arrives, he could care less whether Tom's there or not. He's just grateful the girls are gone. He locks up the car, pulls his bag from the back and heads in, finding the front door open, music coming through the screen door. He lets himself in, noting Ryan's got his headphones on and Tom's nowhere in sight. Taps his lover lightly on the shoulder, hoping not to scare the shit out of him.

Ryan jumps, startled. "Hey," he says, pulling his headphones off, relieved to find his lover standing there. He stands up and wraps his arms around Sam without another word, breathing him in.

"I take it Tom's not here," Sam says, hugging back, pulling Ryan in even closer.

"Nah, he got bored and went out. I wished him well." Ryan's still at the stage where he can't imagine partying ever again in his life. "How'd your day go? You okay?"

"I feel like shit, but other than that, I'm okay," Sam says, kissing Ryan. "And my day went fine. It did wonders for my reputation coming in from a weekend of drinking and sex with hot chicks on their vacation." He rolls his eyes.

"Just the man the media wants you to be, eh?" Ryan murmurs against Sam's lips. He takes advantage of the rare secluded moment to kiss his lover long and deep, letting Sam feel how much he's missed him. "Crazy weekend. I'm glad it's over."

"Me too," Sam says, tugging Ryan over to the couch to sit with him. "What about you? How are you doing?" However hard this weekend was for him, it had to be doubly hard for Ryan, pretending a desire he doesn't even possess.

"I feel like hell," Ryan sighs, lying back against a throw pillow and crossing his legs over Sam's lap. "I mean, I feel better - Excedrin is amazing stuff - but... Jesus." He drags a hand through his hair, tousling it. "I feel like shit, too. Jenna must hate me. And if she doesn't, then she should," he adds.

"And why's that? Because you fucked her when she wanted you to?" Sam says, shaking his head. "Women don't go on vacation, _from_ their boyfriends no less, without knowing the score."

"I guess." Ryan ponders this for a long moment, chewing on his bottom lip. "I'm a big fucking liar," he says quietly, then abruptly stands up. "Don't listen to me. I've been wallowing all day." And it's bloody pathetic.

"Hey." Sam grabs Ryan's wrists and pulls him back down, into his lap. "I love you, and I'm sorry you had to lie, but you were protecting me, and there's sure as hell nothing wrong with that."

"Yeah." Ryan wraps his arms around Sam and buries his face in his lover's shoulder. "The truth is, if it came down to it, I'd do it again," he admits, knowing there's not much he wouldn't do for Sam at this point.

"I know you would, and I'm gonna do my best to make sure you don't have to," Sam says, sitting back and pulling Ryan in close, every fibre of his being almost sighing with relief, with how much he's missed this. "As soon as Tom leaves, I'll work up an ad and get it posted to the boards."

"Okay." It's funny how the idea - of Sam stepping out with some woman - doesn't sting at all the way it used to. Now it just seems like the perfect solution, particularly if she's not genuinely into him. "Maybe you'll find someone who isn't secretly hoping to have a real relationship with you. Or not so secretly, I mean," Ryan says, thinking about Diane and how she'd bluntly said she'd choose Sam over her boyfriend... if only Sam were interested.

"I'd better," Sam says. "It's the only way I'm doing it." He kisses Ryan again, working his way along his jaw and down his throat before his stomach rumbles. "How long is Tom gone for? Did he say?"

"He said he'd be out late because I'm no fucking fun today." Ryan shrugs, tipping his head back to give Sam better access to his throat. "I don't know how he does it. I was sick all fucking morning, but he acted like it was nothing. Tough guy." He shivers a little beneath the kisses.

His stomach can go to hell, what with Ryan looking like that, shivering under his touch. Sam slides a hand up the inside of his thigh, stroking him boldly through his jeans. "It's what he does. Every fucking night," he whispers. "Nothing tough about it. It's just tolerance."

"Oh. Uh-huh." Ryan is suddenly losing the thread of the conversation, his cock immediately starting to fill and swell. "At least..." he swallows hard, pushing into Sam's touch, "at least we partied hard enough for him for a couple of days. He should be convinced we're straight now."

"I would fucking hope so," Sam says, working Ryan's cock through the denim, his eyes on his face, watching his lover - his boy - fall apart in his hands.

Ryan moans softly, stroking his hands over Sam's nape, shoulders, arms. Touching just for the pleasure of touching. "I love you," he whispers, his eyes darkening with heated lust.

"I love you too," Sam whispers back, leaning in, mouth on Ryan's throat again, nibbling, sucking, so fucking careful not to leave any marks, groaning at the throb of Ryan's cock against his hand. "So much."

God that just makes Ryan melt, and Sam knows it. "Will you fuck me?" he asks, a dreamy tone in his voice. "Please? I need you inside me."

Sam nods, sitting back. "Go lock the door and pull the curtains," he says. "Just in case."

"Yes, Sir," Ryan breathes, getting up to obey. The room is close and dark with the curtains drawn, but Ryan's excitement at being with his lover can't be overwhelmed. "As soon as Tom left, I prepped," he murmurs, unbuckling his belt. It was a wild hope. "Just in case."

"Good boy," Sam says with a smile, opening up his own jeans, his cock already rigid, aching, leaking at its tip. "I want you to ride me."

"Unnhhyessir," Ryan moans, swiftly stripping out of his jeans and t-shirt. He straddles Sam's thighs, reaching back to fit his lover's cock to his hole. Taking him in to the head, then working his way down with every quickened breath. Damn Tom. Ryan needs this.

"Oh, fuck," Sam breathes, his hands on Ryan's hips, fingers stretching to spread his cheeks, open him up. "Yeah."

A quick flash and burn and Ryan is filled, sitting on his lover's lap. Slowly he begins to rock his hips, every stroke of Sam's cock streaking like lightning through him. He ducks his head and licks the length of Sam's throat, tasting him.

"You feel so good," Sam groans, rocking his hips to meet Ryan, filling him completely, again and again. Twisting his neck so he can get his mouth on Ryan's throat too, teeth scraping skin, the desire to break it almost too much. _Mine._ He restrains himself, knowing that's exactly what it's about. Marking and re-claiming his boy. "Gonna get you a collar," he whispers. "Moment Tom's gone. Keep you naked."

The words slam into Ryan's chest, their impact greater than it should be. "Yes, Sir," he whispers, feeling his submission to this man as a bone-deep connection, right and true. "I'm yours. For you."

"Damn right," Sam murmurs, unable to resist after all, his teeth sinking in, low on Ryan's throat, right in the curve of his shoulder, where he'll easily be able to hide it. Or so he tells himself, biting harder, his cock throbbing violently with the pulse below.

Ryan cries out, clutching at Sam's shoulders. Liquid heat rushes through him, and precome pearls on the tip of his cock. "Please!" he begs, so close to coming but desperate for it not to be over. "Please, more!"

Biting still deeper, the skin taut beneath his teeth, Sam sucks fiercely, bracing his feet against the floor and fucking up into Ryan as hard as he can.

That does it. "Ohgod I'm going to come, I'm going to come!" Ryan babbles. Without a fucking touch to his prick -- Sam just does that to him sometimes. "Please, Sir," he pleads, clenching tight around Sam's cock as he rides him faster.

Sam nods, once, sharply, unwilling to let go, the movement breaking the skin, copper suddenly painting his tongue. He comes so hard and so fast his head almost spins with it, cock pulsing hotly, pumping into Ryan's hole.

Ryan sobs out a breath, spilling between them in a rush. He can't even think, he's just a wild mass of sensation, the smell of his own blood thick in the air. "Want you," he gasps, and has to catch his breath before he can get a sentence out, "want you to... mix blood with me. Wanted to ask you."

The request takes him by surprise but Sam can't deny the sharp edge of arousal that slices through him at the suggestion, at the images that run riot through his mind. Mixing blood. Christ. "Okay," he says, nodding, pulling Ryan in for a kiss and letting him taste himself on his tongue. "When Tom's gone." Grinning at the words. " _Everything's_ when Tom's gone."

"Five days," Ryan murmurs, smiling. He rests his forehead against Sam's. "I really do like him, actually. His preference for drunk women aside." He laughs softly, then shifts, groaning as Sam moves inside him.

Sam laughs and kisses Ryan again. "Have you eaten?" he asks, hands still tight on his hips, not wanting either of them to move just yet.

"Nah. Haven't been hungry before now." Ryan licks at a spot of blood on Sam's lip, lapping it up before it dries completely. "Want me to make you something?"

Groaning at the licks, Sam gives a light shrug. "Maybe. Do you have to work?"

"I'm at a stopping point," Ryan tells him, and eases off Sam's lap. His cheeks are wet with come, and he's stark naked while Sam is still mostly clothed. "Do you know how fucking sexy you are?"

Sam grins. "So I've been told," he teases. "But I think you're the sexy one," he says, getting to his feet and pulling Ryan with him, kissing him more. "Go clean up. I'll make some sandwiches if that's okay and we'll just watch some TV, enjoy our Tom-free time together."

"All right, love." Ryan kisses him one last time.  



End file.
